


Forgive Me, Father, For I Have Sinned

by GenuineRisk



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, And Not the Dairy Kind, Blow Jobs, Confession, Dubious Forgiveness, Hotel Chapel, Idiots in Love, Jonny Might Toast the Breadman, Jonny's a Priest, Kneelers, Lots and lots of cheese, M/M, Negotiated Dubcon, Pat Fucks Temi, Patrick's an Altar Boy, Prayers Won't Help You Now, Roleplay, Sacrament Abuse, Superstitions, Team Dinners Will Never be the Same, Temi Blows Pat, Temi is a Girl, holy oil, religious kink, sex in a chapel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 14:30:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10165043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenuineRisk/pseuds/GenuineRisk
Summary: This is a remix, kind of, from a story I wrote and put up about 13 years ago--different characters of course, so if it sounds vaguely familiar, that's why. I posted it briefly here last year, but deleted it after a couple weeks.That being said....Pat and Jonny are role-playing. This is a blatant exploitation of the Priest/Altar Boy relationship, so if you find that offensive or objectionable in any way for any reason, PLEASE DON'T READ THIS STORY. Also, all of the underage talk and references are part of their role-playing.Temi is a female Russian exchange student and Patrick didn't really do all those terrible things to him...her...he just wants Father Toews to think he did.A cassock is an altar server's robe.Lots of hand waving with the whole team dinner thing before games. Just pretend Q thinks it's a good idea and the hotels they use always have private chapels with doors that lock from the inside...Great big thank you to PensToTheEnd for the beta and advice.Finally, I mean no offense to Catholics. I am one. And yes, I will probably burn in hell for posting this during Lent.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a remix, kind of, from a story I wrote and put up about 13 years ago--different characters of course, so if it sounds vaguely familiar, that's why. I posted it briefly here last year, but deleted it after a couple weeks. 
> 
> That being said....
> 
> Pat and Jonny are role-playing. This is a blatant exploitation of the Priest/Altar Boy relationship, so if you find that offensive or objectionable in any way for any reason, PLEASE DON'T READ THIS STORY. Also, all of the underage talk and references are part of their role-playing. 
> 
> Temi is a female Russian exchange student and Patrick didn't really do all those terrible things to him...her...he just wants Father Toews to think he did.
> 
> A cassock is an altar server's robe.
> 
> Lots of hand waving with the whole team dinner thing before games. Just pretend Q thinks it's a good idea and the hotels they use always have private chapels with doors that lock from the inside...
> 
> Great big thank you to PensToTheEnd for the beta and advice.
> 
> Finally, I mean no offense to Catholics. I am one. And yes, I will probably burn in hell for posting this during Lent.

~ ~ ~ ~

 

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit, amen. Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been one week since my last confession," I say, kneeling in front of him making the sign of the cross. I keep my eyes averted, thinking about what I'm going to tell him.

 

"Welcome, child, and don't be afraid. I didn't expect to see you back so soon, but I have faith in you and so does God. He loves you and all will be forgiven just as soon as you confess your sins and accept your penance. You may begin," he says, and his voice fills the small room, deep and resonant, coaxing in that captain’s tone he's perfected over the years.

 

"Well?" he prods, giving me his undivided attention.

 

"I...confess to almighty God..." My eyes go straight to the large dark stain on the rug between us, like a line drawn in the sand. My mind drifts back to a certain afternoon not too long ago, remembering exactly how it got there. Just that fast I forget what I'm about to say.

 

"It's alright. You don't have to be nervous or embarrassed. How long have I known you, my boy? I baptized you, lest you forget, ministered your First Holy Communion, confirmed you, trained you as an altar server. There's nothing for you to be ashamed of. Remember that life is full of temptation, especially for one as pretty as you, and you will not be discarded to eternal damnation for giving in every once in a while. Now tell me how you've sinned, Patrick. Something tells me it involves a little carnal indulgence, am I right?"

 

One hand tucks a stray curl behind my ear while his other is on my shoulder and I can feel its heat searing me right through the fabric of my cassock. At this rate, neither one of us will be on time for tonight’s team dinner. My face flushes a deep red at where my thoughts are heading and I take a breath and start my confession.

 

"Thank you, Father. And you're right. To make a long story short, I sinned with Temi after her hockey game last night. I didn't set out to, but it happened and I'm really sorry. Please forgive me." The words rush out in one long stream and I wait to see what my penance will be. All in all, it doesn’t seem so bad, except for the way his head snaps up and his chest expands when I mention Temi’s name. I should have known he wasn’t going to make it easy for me.

 

"Now, my son, I'm very encouraged that you've admitted to sinning and are seeking forgiveness, but you must be more specific with me. How exactly did you sin? In order for me to properly impose an act of penance, I need to know everything. What was the actual sin you committed? How many times did you commit this particular sin? I also need to know any details that may have contributed to or had any bearing on this sin. And who is this girl, this Temi? I don’t believe I recall such a student at your school. Now, start from the beginning. You went to the hockey game..."

 

"I went to the girls varsity game with some of my buddies. Brent’s girlfriend is the goalie, so he wanted to go and watch and, well, that's when it kind of started. I mean, sure, I knew who she was. It’s not every day a gorgeous little thing from Russia winds up in the row next to you in Chem class. I didn’t even know they had exchange students in Russia. Anyway, she’s so pretty—thick, wavy, blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes, such an adorable little nose and that mouth. Holy shi...crap, Father, it rivals mine if I do say so myself. And she has this accent, so cute and so hot, doesn’t speak a whole lot of English yet, you know? The thing that really did it for me, though, was her skating. I’ve been to a few games this season, so I’d already seen her play. It’s insane. She hits the ice and just flies, I’ve never seen anything like it. And her eye for playing the angles is unreal, almost as crazy as the way she dances the puck from one end of the ice to the other before burying it in the net damn near every time. It’s like magic, Father, you should see her. I’ve never met anyone like her. She’s…she’s just…perfectly perfect in every way."

 

"Very good, my boy, very good. Please continue." Very good, my ass. One look at his face tells me I’m going to be paying for this one long after we walk out of this place.

 

"So, we were sitting right down on the glass and she skated over and our eyes just sorta met. It was the weirdest thing, just like they say in the movies. I think maybe I even heard harps playing in my head. She smiled at me, can you believe it? That bright, beautiful, crooked little smile, right at me, like she heard the harps, too. So I smiled back, gave her my special one, you know the one I mean, don’t you Father? This went on every time she skated by for the first two periods and then right before she went out for the third, she waved me over to the bench, introduced herself and asked if I wanted to meet somewhere after the game. For some crazy reason, I didn’t have any problem understanding her really broken English. I just knew all the important words and knew what she was asking. Hell ya, I wanted to meet up with her. I'd have to be crazy not to. And I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t already been thinking about it. She’s just so sweet and sexy and everything that just does it for me.”

 

"Breadman? Really, Pat? We will be having a _talk_ about this when we get home later, count on it. Exactly how long have you been thinking…wait…nevermind…I didn’t say a word. Sorry, sorry.” He shakes himself a little, clears his throat and begins again. “Yes, my son, at your age, I suppose such things are important. Go on."

 

"Well, I met her afterwards, and we walked over here to the church," I say, fully expecting the reaction I get.

 

" _My_ church? You took this little trollop to my _church_? This is much worse than I anticipated. You'd better continue." He's slowly shaking his head and his eyes darken ominously. Is it wrong that I'm enjoying the rise I get out of him? I didn't think so. And I'm starting to warm up to the idea of telling him just exactly what I did last night. I smile to myself and go on.

 

"We didn't actually go inside the church. It's always locked at night, you know that. We went around back to the rectory steps. It's dark and private there and I thought it would be a good place to talk."

 

"Talk? Come now, Patrick, I may be a man of the cloth, but I wasn't born yesterday. Don't compound your sins by lying to me now. Besides, you already told me this Temi doesn’t speak much English and I’m fairly certain you don’t know any Russian. Go on, young man."

 

"You’re right. I'm sorry, Father. Talk was the last thing I wanted to do. I couldn't believe I was there with her and that she wanted me to be. All those weeks sitting next to her, watching her, _listening_ to her, drove me crazy. You should hear the way she says my name. On my god. I didn't even know what to say to her and I couldn't stop staring at her mouth. More than anything else, I wanted to kiss her, right there on the church steps. I wanted to feel her licking and sucking on my lips like I’d been imagining and it was like she heard me.

 

"Just like that, she leaned into me, wet her lips and slid the tip of her tongue across my bottom lip. I was so surprised, I fell back against the bricks, and that's when she kissed me. One of my legs ended up between hers, and she starting rubbing herself on me, up and down, harder and harder. I grabbed handfuls of her glorious hair and there was no way I was letting go. I think we kissed forever."

 

"So, you enjoy kissing. That's good to know. Kissing is not a sin, though, is it, my boy? No. Kissing is a perfectly acceptable way of demonstrating affection for someone. Of course, it's also an extremely intimate act. Think about it, you use your mouth, your lips and tongue, to give pleasure to another. And the heat and the wetness only intensify an already powerful sensation. Add to that the fact that you are literally taking someone into your body, tasting them, and vice versa, and it doesn't get much more intimate than that." He clears his throat a bit too loud, "I'm sorry. Please continue."

 

"She was still kissing me, and she made this little noise, like a kitten, and I opened my eyes. That's what she wanted, for me to look at her. I never kissed like that with my eyes open before. It made me feel kind of..."

 

"Naughty. It made you feel naughty, didn't it? Like you were watching something you knew you shouldn't be watching," he interrupted me.

 

"Yes, Father, it did. But it was also a little like looking in a mirror. I liked it. And I liked it even more when she slid her hands up under my shirt. They were so warm and small and kinda soft even though she plays hockey. So different from ours. She moved them in little circles all across my stomach, along my ribs, all around my chest. And she was pinching me, pulling on my nipples until they were as hard as hers. I knew that because I could see them clearly right through her sweater. And then she wrapped her arms around me, rubbing them against me, and moved her hands to my back. God, she felt good. She ran her fingertips straight down my spine to the top of my jeans, and then slid them inside, just a little, following along the waistband. She stopped and kind of froze when she reached the front again. I couldn't help it. I was so hard and pushing right out the top, right into her fingers. I don't think I've ever been that hard before, not for anyone. It actually hurt.

 

"She was so surprised, she stopped kissing me. But it was okay because what she did next was even better. She started circling the tip of my dick with her finger. Round and round until I felt dizzy. And when her finger was good and wet, she raised it to her mouth and sucked it. I watched her and all I could think about was her tongue licking up and down my thick hard cock, slicking me up and sliding me between those pink, pouty lips. Just the thought of me in her mouth was almost enough to get me off. And I'm sorry about my language, Father, but you asked for specifics.”

 

“So I did, my child, and you’ve clearly put a lot of thought into your…specifics. You may continue.” His voice is beginning to crack a little. I smirk to myself and go on.

 

"One of her hands found its way down the front of my jeans, squeezing me while she popped the snap and pulled down the zipper, and her other one unbuttoned my shirt. I couldn't stand it anymore, I had to touch her. I lifted her sweater over her head and came face to face with the most beautiful ... well, you know. Smooth, pale, absolutely perfect and she wasn't wearing a bra. I leaned down and pulled one of those sweet little nipples into my mouth. Her tits were small, just the way I like them. I’m a firm believer that anything more than a mouthful is a waste, don’t you agree? So I sucked on her, took my time, too, until she finally lifted my head back to hers. She was gasping and flushed and her eyes were fused to mine and she smiled this secret little smile as she reached for my dick. I knew what she was about to do and I just couldn't say no. Not when she went down on her knees. Not when she took me in her mouth. Not even when she worked one of her long, slim fingers deep inside me. I'm sorry, Father, but I couldn't stop. No one's ever done those things to me before, not the way she did, and I never even thought of stopping. It was heaven."

 

I take a second to breathe and notice his face is set in hard, tight lines and his hands are clasped together in his lap. For an instant I almost feel bad for him, but this is his little game, so yeah, I’ll play.

 

"So that's it. You gave into temptation and let this…girl…swallow the bittersweet seed of your sin. I suppose it could have been worse."

 

"It was, Father," I cut in. “It was much worse.” He wants the whole story, well here it is.

 

"That was only the beginning. It didn't seem right to let it end that way, with me in her mouth. I didn't know if I'd ever get another chance with her, so I wanted to make sure she'd be remembering me long after she went back to Russia. I eased her off my dick and out of my ass and pulled her back to her feet. It was quick work to slip off her leggings and panties and push my own clothes out of the way and then I turned her to face the steps. She knew what I wanted and bent forward, presenting me with her plump, perfect ass and all that sweetness hidden between her thighs. I had to go for it."

 

"No, child, tell me you didn't," he says almost angrily, his face taking on a ruddy bronze hue. It looked kind of funny against the white of his collar and the flat black glare of his eyes.

 

"Yes, Father, I did. She pressed her cheek to the stair and opened her legs for me. What else could I do? I wanted to take her slowly, carefully, but my body had other ideas, _good_ ideas. I slid my finger into her, testing the waters, and she was fiery hot and so wet and slick. Definitely ready for me. I held her hips and let my dick bob against her a few times, let it rub her a little bit. I wanted her thinking about how thick and hard I was for her and how much I wanted to be with her. And then I thrust deep, just once, until I was buried all the way inside, and she screamed. I think I can still hear her. You haven't always been a priest, Father, has anyone ever screamed for you?" I give him my most innocent look, already knowing damn well what the answer is.

 

His eyes are narrowed nearly to slits as he replies, "Hardly an appropriate question, Mr. Kane. Now please continue."

 

So now I’m _Mr. Kane_. Not. Good. Too late now, so I just go on.

 

"I stayed in her. Never withdrew, not even once. I just pushed harder, forced myself deeper and rocked against her again and again and again. And she went wild. She was shaking and trembling and calling out in Russian, grinding back on me. I tried so hard to keep to that hard, steady rhythm. Push, rock. Push, rock. I was so deep inside her my balls were pretty much flattened between us and I didn't know how much longer I could keep this up. I never wanted to come so bad in my whole entire life, but I didn't want it to end yet so I backed off, just enough to catch my breath. You know what she did then? She begged. Begged, Father. _Please, Patrick, please… please_. Over and over with that hot little accent until I thought I'd lose my mind. So I slid back inside her, nice and slow, then out, then in again. You get the idea. And the whole time she just kept saying my name. Begging."

 

I'm still on my knees in front of him and sporting some pretty hefty wood under this robe with not too many options for covering it up. Damn. He’s got to know. My eyes wander again to the stained carpet between us and a shudder makes its way up my back.

 

"Well?" he says, watching me intently. "And then what happened? That can't possibly be the end, can it? Go ahead and finish, my son, you’re committed to it now."

 

"Okay. It was pretty dark out, but the back light was just enough for me to be able to see her. And I wanted to see, wanted to watch while I fu...while I was inside her. She was all pink and wet and shiny and her skin was so smooth and pale. I loved it. Sin or not, I was having the time of my life, and judging by the noises coming out of her, so was she. Do you even know what it did to me to see myself sliding in and out like that? I barely fit. It was like her skin was molded completely to the shape of my dick. When I pushed in, it would disappear into her with me, and when I withdrew, it was right there clinging to me. And then there was that other part of her, so small and tight and wanting some attention. You know what part I'm talking about, don't you Father?"

 

My answer is yet another glare and a rapidly bobbing Adam's apple. I smother a smile as he reaches to loosen his collar.

 

"It just seemed like the perfect thing to do. I worked a finger into her alongside my dick, getting it nice and wet. I swear her moans added at least another inch to me. _God_. Oh, sorry. Anyway, I pulled it back out and rubbed it all around her tight little hole until she was panting and twitching. I nudged her knees further apart, slowly withdrew my dick halfway and just as slowly pushed my finger into her ass. I'd never felt anything so hot and tight as she was and I kept pushing until both my knuckles were far out of sight. It was amazing. I could feel the head of my dick sliding against my fingertip from the inside and I think I lost it at that point. I drove back into her, hard and deep, and then she really screamed. I'm surprised we didn't wake you up with all the noise she made. Isn't that your window directly over the stairs?

 

“Where was I? Oh, yeah, so I'm all the way in, my finger's all the way in, and I'm trying to hold her hips still with my free hand. That was a losing battle. She pushed a hand down between her legs to rub herself and started swaying, pushing on and off me, so I concentrated on just matching her rhythm. I'd thrust hard and fast, withdraw slowly, all the while twisting my finger deeper into her ass. It didn't take long and she was coming, squeezing tighter and tighter until I couldn't hold it in another second. I exploded right behind her, literally shot so much it filled her up and was running down her thighs all mixed together with hers. I came so hard I couldn't breathe or move or anything. I just slumped over her, pinned her to the stairs, still deep inside her. I don't even know how long we stayed there like that, but I wasn't complaining and neither was she. I think I only moved because my damn hand went numb or I might still be there now."

 

"Is that so? Well then, that’s everything?" he asks in a low, husky voice. A thin line of sweat is beading across his forehead.

 

"All except the clean-up, but then cleanliness is next to godliness, isn't that right, Father? No sin in that." I can't resist. It’s just a game after all.

 

"This is not a laughing matter. What you have done is very serious, a sin against m… against _God_ on so many levels and I'm not sure you're truly sorry about any of it," he says, preparing to stand up. I look at him and swear I see betrayal or something in his eyes before his bottomless black death glare slips back into place.

 

"But..." I begin to stutter. He cuts me right off.

 

"But I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt, Patrick. You're at that age where you're apt to think with the wrong head eh. You didn't give much thought to the consequences of your actions, did you? Perhaps you will now. Go ahead and begin the Act of Contrition. I realize it's customary for me to impose an act of penance first, but in this instance, I need more time to construct an adequate display of atonement for you," he says slowly, and I begin to rise as well. "Oh no, my boy, you'll be staying right here on your knees. I believe that's the least you can do for…God."

 

I stay put and look up at him, but his eyes are glued to the pronounced tent in the front of my robe. Looks like he noticed after all. I begin reciting the Act of Contrition while my mind wanders off again.

 

"Oh my God, I am sorry for my sins. In choosing to sin, and failing to do good, I have sinned against you and your church. I firmly intend, with the help of your Son, to make up for my sins and to love as I should," I flush crimson as the familiar words suddenly take on whole new meaning.

 

"I see you're giving serious thought to your wayward meanderings, my son. Perhaps next time you're faced with such temptation, you'll not give in so easily to the weakness of a young girl's flesh, and certainly not on the back steps of my church. As a sign of your commitment to repent, I ask that you say five Our Fathers and five Hail Marys," he says, placing a hand on my shoulder again, playing with the snaps of my cassock.

 

"Thank you, Father, that's very generous of you. I expected something much more severe," I stammer, flushing an even deeper shade.

 

He casually flicks open the top two snaps, letting my robe drape just enough to see what I'm not wearing underneath.

 

"Oh, I'm not finished, child. I believe I said as a sign of your commitment, did I not? I don't recall using the word penance. I have something special reserved for that," he drawls, finally removing his collar altogether, sliding his hand down across my chest and around my shoulder before it comes to rest on the back of my neck. "Now stand up, boy."

 

I climb to my feet, shaking out the kinks from kneeling in place for so long. The folds of my robe cling obscenely to my dick, which is now standing at full attention, and I stare right at the bulge in his black pants that mirrors my own. I can't help the thoughts racing through my head, don't even try.

 

"You may begin your prayers. Say them slowly, and concentrate. I want to hear all ten clearly and accurately, no distractions, or you will begin again. Do you understand?" he asks, opening the remaining snaps and letting my robe fall around my feet. The warm air of the room washes over my bare skin, extending the flush the length of my body.

 

“Yes, Father.” I nod and begin the Our Father as he kneels in front of me, stroking my erection. By the time I finish the first prayer, my balls are pressed tight in his hand. By the start of the third Hail Mary, my cock is deep in his throat, and with my final amen, he's licking me clean, his hands wrapped around my thighs to keep me upright.

 

"Well done, my son. You’re on your way to optimizing your grasp of self-control and I'm greatly encouraged by your single-mindedness in maintaining your dialogue with God," he says after licking his lips one last time and climbs to his feet.

 

I smile weakly because that's all I can do. I'm still shaking and trying to gulp some air into my lungs and I'm suddenly fascinated by the way my rapidly shrinking cock is forcing out one last drop of come. He notices, as well, and catches it on the tip of his finger, lifting it higher and higher until it's level with my chin.

 

"I'm ready to impose your penance now. Are you ready to accept it?" he asks, intently studying the milky fluid on the end of his finger before raising it that final inch to my mouth. "Open. Now, with regard to your penance, I want you to know that not only will it serve as atonement for past sins, but it will also serve as an antidote for future weakness. Suck it clean, Patrick, there's a good boy. After serious thought, I've concluded that this act of penance will appropriately correspond to the nature of your sin, and will aid you in remembering that it, and its forgiveness, have very specific social ramifications. Now go over to the prayer box and prepare to accept your penance."

 

He pulls his finger out of my mouth and watches as I cross the room. I can’t swear to it, but I think I hear him mumbling something about _fucking dick wad Russians_ and how he’s going to _toast that twerpy little asshole if he so much as looks at Pat funny_. Then I hear him unbuckling his belt, dragging down his zipper, and the soft rustle as the rest of his clothes hit the carpet. I know what he's going to do to me, he's done it so many times before in this very room, but I still break out in goosebumps, I want it so fucking bad. I take my place on my knees below the crucifix and wait while he makes his way to me. The slide of the side table drawer tells me he's only inches away, and I hold my breath and count to ten and then he's here, naked and hot, searing his impression into my back.

 

The kneeler is set up on a dais, so his body is perfectly aligned with mine as he stands behind me. His lips are warm and soft against my neck and his hands are strong and calloused on my shoulders, making their way down to my ass. I let out the breath I'm holding, and he laughs a little, knowing exactly what he's doing to me. His hands slide to the insides of my thighs, pushing them wide apart to make room for himself there.

 

"I think you should pray the Prayer of Sorrow now, my son, and beg God's pardon while we continue with your preparation. The Act of Contrition may not have been sufficient," he whispers in my ear, sliding his fat cock up and down the crack of my ass. "Go on, now, raise your eyes to Jesus and pray."

 

Jonny’s going straight to hell. No stops for him.

 

I obediently raise my eyes to the large carved crucifix and begin to quietly mouth the words.

 

"My God, I am sorry for my sins with all my heart. In choosing to do wrong, and failing to do good, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things..." I gasp loudly as he slides an oiled finger roughly into my ass.

 

"What are you waiting for, Jesus to climb down off his cross and join us? Pray," he barks in my other ear, adding two more fingers to the first before spreading them wide and stretching me open. One more deep breath and I continue, trying not to hyperventilate at the thought of him inside me.

 

"I firmly intend, with your help, to do penance, and sin no more... _Oh god_..." I gasp again as he starts to thrust slowly in and out of my ass.

 

"Concentrate, my child. Don't lose your way now," he says, gasping a little as well. "You're almost ready."

 

"...and...and to avoid...whatever leads me to...sin. Amen." Pretty sure I’ll be going straight to hell, too.

 

I somehow make it through the prayer and then lean back into him. He pulls his fingers away and holds me tight while his cock slides wetly between my legs and comes to rest right under my balls.

 

"Nicely done, my son. I believe you've just found the light needed to recognize your sins, as well as the confidence to accept God's mercy and forgiveness," he says, reaching to stroke the hard on I'm sporting again.

 

I slide my knees together, pinning his dick between my legs as he heats up my cock with his oiled palm.

 

"Well, my child, are you ready?" His tongue is in my ear now, sending chills everywhere all at once.

 

"Yes, Father, I'm ready to accept my penance, please," I manage in little more than a whisper.

 

"Such pretty manners, little altar boy. Now spread your legs for me," he breathes against my ear. "And I want you to know that I consecrated my cock just for you, blessed it with enough holy oil to best any resistance your flesh may have to the celebration of this sacrament and the acceptance of your penance."

 

I do as I'm told, my heart racing, and he immediately spreads my ass and pushes inside. His other hand is still wrapped around my cock, twisting and stroking in a broken rhythm. I let out a long, low groan and start to pray in earnest as his slicked length sinks deeper and deeper.

 

"There, there, settle down," he says, moving a hand up to my chest, rubbing soothingly. "The worst is over, I promise. You're a very special boy and I want to do all I can to help you in the exercise of this ministry, to help you be better. And remember the question you asked me a few minutes ago? You know the one I'm talking about, don't you, Patrick?"

 

"I'm sorry, Father, I don't. Which question is that?" He's got to be kidding. I can barely speak and the only thing I'm remembering is how fucking thick this man is and what an amazing feat that he managed to get it all in my ass without splitting me in half.

 

"You asked if anyone ever screamed for me, remember?" he says right before using his grip on my dick to pull me back hard against him, driving himself all the way in. I scream while his heart slams into my back.

 

"Does that answer your question, my child?" His voice is broken and breathless and the sexiest thing I've ever heard.

 

He sinks his teeth into my shoulder as I drop my head on my hands and grind my hips around on him, trying to take even more. He uses a hand to grab hold of the padded rail for leverage and sets out to give it to me. Again and again he thrusts, slow and deep, gradually upping his tempo until I'm bumping off the smooth etched wood of the prayer box and my knees are coming clear off the kneeler.

 

"I absolve you from your sins," he rasps, letting my skin slip from his bite.

 

"In the name of the Father..." Fuck he’s strong.

 

"And of the Son..." he groans through clenched teeth, lifting me even higher.

 

"And of the Holy Spirit...fuuuck, Pat, I'm gonna come," he cries out and pins me to the wall of the prayer box.

 

I feel him let go, feel him pulsing deep in my ass and it's too much. His arm, the wood, _me_ , I coat it all with thick stripes of come. I can’t catch my breath and slump down over the railing to wait it out. He’s molded to my back, doing the same.

 

"Amen," I pant quietly over the top of my arm a short time later.

 

"Amen," he echoes, softly licking the sweat from my neck.

 

I need another minute or two and spend them savoring the welcome weight of his body still draped over my back. Neither of us are in any hurry to move, team dinner or no team dinner.

 

"Hey, you okay?" he asks a little thready against my ear. I grunt in response.

 

"I promise next time you get to be the priest and I'll be the altar boy, okay?" He lays his cheek on my shoulder, scratching me a little with his scruff, and I think how much this man means to me.

 

"I’ll do whatever you want, Jonny, however you want. Hell, I'll even let you tie me to the cross," I say honestly, turning carefully on the kneeler and wrapping him in my arms.

 

~ ~ ~ ~


End file.
